it’s such a rainy, brooding afternoon and such quintessential blogging weather that i just can’t take it anymore. alright, alright. see me waving my little white flag? let’s parley.
checking in, then, from my outpost here at the kitchen table, where i’m competing for space with an oversized enamel pitcher of fat, blooming peonies. i’m underdressed, of course, next to all that frothy pink glamour, but lounging in a faded bathrobe at 3pm on a monday is its own kind of luxury.
foxy got the memo for this afternoon, too, or rather she dictated the memo to me from the sheepskin throne where she’s reclining. she’s pioneered the Lady of Leisure lifestyle and i’m just a humble apprentice, a working-class sucker who works. two days a week i delude myself into thinking i’m making great strides in Leisure, but the other five days are too great a regression to really shake off in one go. foxy’s very gracious, but i think we both know which one of us wears the (fur) mantle better.
but back to pretending…ladies of leisure smooth but don’t change the sheets, brew an exaggeration of coffee, fold no more than half the clean laundry, stack but don’t wash the dishes, and lazily leave a kettle of beans, chorizo, and rosemary branches to stew themselves into a cassoulet.
ladies of leisure watch danish TV series, paint their nails pale blue, and when their nails are dry, maybe strum a chanson or two on the guitar.
ladies of leisure drink rhubarb cordial
from whiskey tumblers, nudge and rearrange the little tin mugs of cacti and succulents on the living room shelf into veritable pinterest tableaux, and then collapse from all that creative effort into a nest of fuzzy blankets on the sofa.
but ladies of leisure would never write all of this down, so i’ll have to stop here before foxy notices.
ps. i’ll be back soon! i’ve been thinking on you…